


The Third Turn

by snapeslittleblackbuttons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Curses, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mild Language, Time Travel, Time Turner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-02 02:52:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapeslittleblackbuttons/pseuds/snapeslittleblackbuttons
Summary: The curse that scarred her chest is once again threatening Hermione’s life. Her only option is to return to the past to discover its origin. Written for the hp crossgen fest on LJ, prompt by articcat621.





	The Third Turn

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta, MelodyLepetit.

**Prologue: Late March 2006, Lucius Malfoy’s Study**

 

Lucius had always found the smell of leather rather comforting. Here, in his private study, where many of the furnishings and nearly all of the books were fashioned of leather, the scent made him want to close his eyes and sigh blissfully. He’d never gotten accustomed to it—even though he had spent untold hours within those very walls.

He took a moment to regard the man sitting across from him: Severus appeared utterly at home. His long fingers encircled a highball glass, resting on the arm of a chair; his legs were crossed casually at the knee, allowing for a glimpse of black socks under finely tailored trousers and Italian shoes.

One might think he looked…content.

Lucius, however, knew better.

Apparently, Severus felt Lucius’s stare. He shifted in the armchair under Lucius’s gaze, the leather underneath him grousing about the change.

“You’ll find her,” Lucius said, breaking the stale silence.

The fire sputtered its agreement.

Severus swirled his Ogden’s Finest and took a long swallow, not meeting Lucius’s eye. “Obviously.”

“Severus…” For reasons he was unable to articulate, Lucius found himself eager to reassure his oldest friend. “She’ll leave a trace…a message, perhaps.”

It was then that the other wizard met Lucius’s eye. “Of that, we cannot be certain.”

Lucius rose from his own chair and strolled toward the fireplace, unwilling to hold Severus’s gaze. Would Severus be able to bear another disappointment? Another _almost_?

“She’s alive,” Lucius said with more conviction than he felt. He traced his fingertips along the edge of the mantel, and thought of Severus’s last two attempts at finding the witch. “Fools at the Ministry,” he muttered.

Severus gave an almost imperceptible shrug. “They have always been fools, and they have never aspired to more than that.”

“Agreed,” Lucius said. “We’ll try again.”

  

*****

**Four Months Prior, December 2005**

 

“You won’t want me. Trust me, once you see it, you won’t!” Hermione clutched her blouse at the neck, twisting it closed. Her face pricked with colour, darkening the residual pink of their near-intimacy into flame.

Severus laughed bitterly at the sudden turnabout in her demeanor. _Well, that’s what I get for suggesting we leave the light on so I can watch her eyes in the firelight_. He forced himself to breathe through the rejection. “This is about a scar? You haven’t managed to see mine within the last year?” He yanked his sleeve upward to expose a faded brand on the inside of his left arm.

“Don’t laugh at me!” she shrieked, and tightened the grip on her shirt.

“I’m not laughing at you!” He collapsed into a chair across from her, leaned forward, and put his head in his hands. Things had been going so well this evening—until they were nearly free of their clothes. “I’m not laughing at you,” he repeated, but this time his words were gentle. “I simply cannot understand why you would concern yourself—“ He stopped abruptly as a sob escaped her lips. Severus looked at her, bewildered. “Hermione, what—“

She shook her head violently as if to say _don’t come near_.

His witch was never this fragile, never this dramatic. “It’s more than just the scar, isn’t it?”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment.

Then: “Poppy…Poppy believes that the curse that caused my scar will kill me eventually,” she whispered. “And I believe her.”

He ignored the stab of disquiet in his gut. “It is likely Poppy does not fully understand all the aspects of dark magic…”

“It’s not only Poppy, Severus. The Healers at St Mungo’s agreed with her assessment. It’s not only ugly—the curse will kill me,” Hermione said. “I should have told you before, but I just couldn’t, somehow.”

“No. My potion healed you.”

Hermione reached for his hand, freeing a swath of wrinkled fabric on the front of her blouse. “It’s no criticism of your work, Severus. You saved my life. The potion kept me alive.” She smiled softly, her face wet with tears. “But, I still need to take it every day, and it’s not working as well as it used to—“

“Then we’ll find something else. I’ll develop something else. There are more options, more possibilities.“

“What we need is more information on how the curse was initially developed. Who created it, and when. What other magic it was based upon. We can develop a counter, and I can be rid of it completely—forever.”

“Dolohov is dead. If there was a way to find out more about the curse, we— _I_ would have done that already.”

Hermione swallowed. “I’ve been thinking about this. There is a way.” Hermione reached for her bag and drew out a thin, gold chain. It glittered in the firelight. “I’m…leaving, Severus. I’m going back to get the info I need.”

“Impossible. You cannot travel that far. It will only take you back five hours, at most. Croaker’s Law clearly states—“

“I’ve modified it. I read about another—presumably lost—that defies Croaker’s Law. I based my modifications on the description of how that one had been spelled with time-magic.”

“The possibilities of alternate timelines…the risk to your person…” He was impressed, in spite of the situation—impressed even though Hermione would be going back to when the Dark Lord was alive. _The Dark Lord_ … Cold fear seized him. “Let me. I can get into the places you can’t—the places where Dolohov might have gone. The Dark Lord’s wards will recognize me.”

“No. It’s not your fight. It’s mine.”

“That’s ridiculous—and also untrue.” At the very least, he would not let her go back alone. “If you won’t let me go on your behalf, I will come with you.”

“Absolutely not. You’re still subject to the Probation Trace until May. If you disappear, you’ll wind up in Azkaban the moment you return.” She fingered the hourglass hanging from the golden chain. “Besides,” she added, with another small smile, “I’ll need you when I get back to help me with designing a counter-curse, and you can’t do that if they snap your wand.”

Severus leaned forward. “It’s far too dangerous. We can figure out something here, now.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said, straightening her back. “I have experience with war—and time—remember?”

Severus didn’t say anything for a minute. “What are you not telling me?” he finally asked.

Hermione sighed. “The symptoms are getting worse at an accelerating rate. And honestly, I…don’t think I can wait six months for you to come with me. I might not…” The words seemed to vanish on her tongue.

He met her eye. “Going back may mean that you die in the past. Alone.”

“I won’t.”

“Hermione—“

“I’ll be back so quickly, you’ll never even have a chance to miss me.” She reached for his hand. “You won’t be rid of me that easily, Severus Snape.”

He moved from the chair to settle next to her on the bed, and wrapped his arms around her small body, allowing the smell of her to soak into his skin. She began to shake in his embrace.

He let his brave Gryffindor cry.

Later, after they had made love in his room illuminated by a single, tiny taper, she lay her head on him, the soft skin of her cheek caressing his chest.

“Hermione,” he whispered. “I want you to be my wife.”

He felt her face move into what he imagined to be a smile, and a moment later, his chest was wet with her tears.

“Severus…” she breathed.

He reached to his side table—trying his best not to disturb her—and retrieved the velvet box that he had intended to be a gift on New Year’s Eve. He felt around in the darkness and placed it in her hand.

“Lumos,” she whispered.

The gentle wandlight lit her face enough for him to see her brown eyes shining with wonder as she removed the ring from the box.

“It was my mother’s, given to her by her mother. I know it’s not…but…I would be honoured if you would accept it.”

“Yes.” As she twisted it onto her finger, her eyebrows raised in shock; she looked down at it wonderingly. “Everything is going to be all right. I know it now,” she said confidently.

“It’s yours. I like to think of it as something outside the binding of time, connecting you not only to me, but to generations of my family.”

“I love you,” she whispered, and kissed him until all other thought had long vanished from his mind.

  

*****

The next morning, she was gone.

After meeting Severus’s eye, Hermione had pulled the Merlin-forsaken thing from beneath her blouse, and gave it three turns. The pendant had rotated in her delicate fingers, as her eyes watched him in a combination of hope and fear.

She had blurred, and then she was gone.

Severus sat there, stoically; his shields prevented raw panic from taking control, and guarded him from the clawing fear that had seeped into his chest and threatened to keep the air from his lungs.

Each moment was more agonizing than the last. With each minute, she felt more lost to him.

And with each passing second, the likelihood of her return diminished.

After three days of waiting for her reappearance at Spinner’s End—three days of torture, frustration, and madness—he realized he would have to petition for help from the one place he despised above all others: Hermione’s employer, The Ministry of Magic.

 

*****

 

“Commissioner Marlowe,” Severus said, inclining his head slightly, “I believe the paperwork is in order.”

“I did, in fact, receive your request.” Marlowe smiled thinly and then began to shuffle the parchment on the desk in front of him until he located the correct one. “If you would, Headmaster Snape. You _claim_ Miss Granger is in the past trying to discover the origination of the curse that injured her during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.” Marlowe’s thin smile soured slightly, perhaps with envy or perhaps, with disbelief. “We have no evidence that she has used her Time-Turner for this purpose.”

“You have my permission to use Legilimency or any other means, including Veritaserum, to confirm my _claim_.” Severus let his lips twist into a sneer.

Marlowe’s face soured further. “Regardless, Matron Poppy Pomfrey’s testimony suggests Miss Granger’s health has been deteriorating so rapidly that there is virtually no chance Miss Granger could still be living, no matter where—or when—she is. Or _was_ , as the case may be.” He allowed himself a tiny chuckle at his own joke. Composing himself, Marlowe added, “The Ministry considers her already deceased.”

“Testimony? Why would this particular matter require submitted testimony?”

The Ministry official ignored his question. “As I’m sure you’re aware, outside of the Time-Turner in Miss Granger’s possession, only one survives. It is reserved for use during…grave emergencies. Of which this is not.”

“She is weakened by the very curse that she was researching and has not returned. I cannot see how this situation would not be considered grave.”

“Miss Granger is only one witch, Headmaster Snape, and we do not loan Time-Turners out just to save one witch’s life.”

_That’s my witch you’re talking about, you callous fuck._

Marlowe cleared his throat under Severus’s stare. “Miss Granger has—rather, _had_ special permission to use Time-Turners, and that has never been officially revoked. You, however, do not.”

“Commissioner Mar—“

“In all likelihood, Miss Granger is dead,” he said, suddenly businesslike. “May I remind you that the terms of your probation do not allow you to leave your current place—or time?”

“Surely this situation calls for a temporary suspension of my probation. _In all likelihood_ , I will return within moments of leaving.”

“The Ministry cannot be assured of that.” Marlowe curled his lips into an approximation of a smirk. “Your request to use the Time-Turner is hereby denied.”

Severus stared at the man, narrowing his eyes.

“ _Headmaster_ Snape,” the commissioner said snidely, “Will that be all?”

At that, Severus turned on his heel and strode away.

 

*****

**Early March 2006**

 

“Ah, Severus,” Lucius said. “Welcome.”

He turned to dismiss his house elf. “That will be all, Nolly.” The creature bowed deeply and retreated out the doorway of the study, closing it softly behind her.

“Lucius. Thank you for the invite.”

Lucius smiled slightly and poured them both glasses of Ogden’s.

“Cissy is looking forward to seeing you. Prepare yourself. She will, no doubt, barrage you with endless stories of our grandson. I think she has ordered the house elves to add an extra course to dinner, just so she has enough time to regale you with his heroic attempts at sleeping through the night, filling nappies, and cooing contentedly.”

“She is very taken with Scorpius,” Severus said levelly.

“That she is. But indulging Cissy’s obsession was not the reason I asked you to join us this evening.” Lucius strolled to his desk and sat down behind it. “I have something for you.”

Severus cocked his head slightly to the side.

Pulling open the top drawer of his desk, Lucius produced an hourglass-shaped pendant on a long, thin chain. He placed it on the wood surface and nudged it toward the other wizard.

A rare twinge of guilt seized Lucius: he knew he was likely condemning Severus to a turn in Azkaban, because his closest friend would certainly use the blasted thing to find his wayward witch. _Well, maybe he’ll figure out a way not to get caught._

“I’m sorry it took me so long to locate one,” he said after a moment.

Severus reached for the Time-Turner, picking it up gingerly.

“Where did you get this?” For the first time in weeks, Lucius saw the hint of hope colour his friend’s dark eyes.

Lucius smiled. “Does it matter?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Severus, are you certain you want to do this? She was right, you know. Without Ministry approval, if you break the trace, they’ll send you to Azkaban the moment you return.”

Severus’s black eyes regarded Lucius for a moment. “It doesn’t matter. Life itself is a prison without her.”

Lucius took a sip of his whiskey, and wondered if he would ever describe life without Cissy in that way. Perhaps not. He cleared his throat. "The seller informed me that it is not bound by the constraints of Croaker’s Law.”

Severus’s face paled. “Then this is—”

“The Time-Turner that your capable little witch uncovered during her research.”

“The chances of that—”

“Are astronomical.” Lucius put down his glass and met Severus’s eye. “Yes, that’s true. It appeared to be the only one left to buy at any price. Hermione could have planted it while she was in the past precisely where she knew I would find it and purchase it—her message to you, if you will. Or it could have been simple coincidence. Again, does it matter?”

Severus said nothing as he silently examined the pendant, rotating it in the light.

“Do you have a plan for disrupting the trace?” Lucius asked finally.

Severus pursed his lips momentarily. “I think the best place to use it would be somewhere that is warded with security magic, but not necessarily wizarding magic. Perhaps…goblin.”

“Ah. Brilliant.” Lucius mused.

“Since, according to the Ministry, I do not have access to a Time-Turner…” Severus examined the pendant in the firelight. “...and, since it is impossible to Apparate within Gringotts, logically, it would be impossible for me to leave a vault, even for a moment.”

“And if the trace happened to alert the Ministry, and you had an upstanding, reliable, and credible witness that could testify that you didn’t leave the premises…”

“Precisely.” Severus took a long swallow of his drink and met Lucius’s eye. “And Weasley owes me.”

  

*****

 

When Severus had owled Arthur Weasley to ask him if he could use his vault for a few minutes, he didn’t explain what he would be using it for. And he hadn’t asked.

Apparently, sharing anti-venom with Nagini’s victims was a sure way to rack up credit with one’s peers.

When Weasley had agreed, Severus had made arrangements to meet him outside Gringotts, and explained to the other wizard that he needed to perform very precise, very private magic within a vault—something he did not want anyone to witness.

He hadn’t baulked.

And he hadn’t asked Severus why hadn’t wanted to use his own.

 

*****

 

Severus wound his way through the pinched streets of the northernmost part of Diagon Alley, his hand never leaving the pocket of his robes. His fingers toyed with the thin chain of Lucius’s gift.

Because of his Probation Trace, he hadn’t been able to test the accursed thing, even for a practice turn; having never used a Time-Turner before, he wasn’t sure exactly what to expect when he finally used it to find Hermione. Did it matter? Merlin, he was beginning to sound like Lucius Malfoy.

As Severus rounded the corner near Madam Malkin’s, he found Weasley rooted on the cobblestone, a vacant smile on his face as he stared up at the marble dome of bank.

“Arthur,” Severus said in greeting, holding out his hand. “I appreciate you meeting me here.”

“All too happy to help, happy to help.” The wizard’s head bobbed ludicrously in perfect time with his handshake. Severus barely kept his smirk contained.

“Shall we?” Severus indicated the door to Gringotts and they made their way in silence.

 

****

 

Although the ride down the cart to the Weasley vault took only a few minutes, to Severus, it felt impossibly long. As the wooden lorry swayed and sprinted down into the dark, Severus recalled the first time he had kissed Hermione...

 

_Severus reached up and brushed her riotous hair back and off her shoulder. “Let me,” he whispered._

_“Let you—what?” Hermione breathed, her honey eyes glistening as the night breeze played with the curls that had escaped his efforts._

_“Let me kiss you.”_

_Her lips parted in approval, so he leaned toward her, touching his lips gently to hers. His hesitance evaporated as she wove her fingers through his hair and drew him in closer, her mouth urgent and demanding._

_They broke apart reluctantly, giddily, breathlessly. While free of the kiss, he found himself deliciously bound to her._

_“You didn’t have to ask, you know,” she managed, still breathing heavily, her eyes dark with desire._

_He threaded his fingers in hers, pulled her closer, and gave her a soft smile. “I know.”_

 

“Amazing place, Gringotts,” Weasley commented, his small talk yanking Severus out of his reverie.

“Yes…” Severus answered absently. “I suppose it is.”

_What if I never get to hold her again? What if I never—_

His musings were cut short by the abrupt docking of the trolley outside their destination.

“That will be all for the moment, Blordak,” Arthur said, hiking up his pants as he stood. He quickly glanced at Severus, then turned back to the goblin. “We shall be only a few minutes. You may wait for us here.”

Weasley shut them in and Severus retreated to the rear of the chamber, ducking behind what appeared to be pieces of a Muggle airplane. The vault was noticeably devoid of galleons. Weasley glanced around the space, red-faced and fidgety.

Severus knew exactly how he felt.

“I shall just be a moment.” Severus met the other wizard’s eye. “Do you mind…?”

Weasley shifted an empty wooden box, turning it so he could sit with his back toward Severus. “Of course, of course.”

Assuming Hermione hadn’t used the Time-Turner _while_ she was in the past, Severus knew _when_ she was—he just didn’t know precisely _where_ she was. Based on the day and time they had chosen for her to travel to—the night of May 10, 1994—he knew he would materialize inside Hogwarts in the darkness. Just as she had.

But where her research had lead her after that, he could only hazard a guess.

Three turns. Surely that was all it would take to find her.

Retrieving the Time-Turner from the pocket of his robs, held it in his right hand and spun it, steadying himself against the tendrils of time-magic.

Suddenly he was surrounded by the cold stone walls of the wizarding school. Cloaked by new moon, he hurried out of the gates to spin away.

The greying wallpaper of Twelve, Grimmauld Place took shape around him. The present time was months before the Mutt had opened it for the Order’s use; the cobwebs—and the undisturbed dust lying thick on the threshold—immediately told him that Hermione wasn’t there. And hadn’t been there.

Next, Severus Apparated to the cave outside Hogsmeade, where the Mutt had hidden after escaping the Shrieking Shack.

Empty.

Well, he might as well try inside the Shrieking Shack—although he couldn’t imagine Hermione going anywhere near it. He twisted in just long enough to take in the deserted room...and the filth coating the wood floor where he nearly died.

It was also unoccupied.

The list they had made of presumably safe places where she might stay if she were caught in the past was growing short.

He Apparated back to the Hogwarts gate, and strode inside to check the last location they had discussed: The Room of Requirement. He performed the ritual to encourage the Room to open to him, but she was not inside.

Where else could she be? Perhaps the Astronomy Tower?

As he climbed the stairs to the Merlin-forsaken lookout, he remembered…

 

_Hermione threaded her fingers in his and led him out onto the back patio of her childhood home. The cool air was welcome; although meeting Hermione’s parents for the first time had been relatively painless, Severus welcomed the fresh night air as if he had just been granted his freedom._

_Hermione gestured to a telescope in the far corner of the patio. “My dad loves astronomy. Sometimes I’m surprised that he became a dentist and not an astronomer.” She looked up at Severus and smiled. “Thank you.”_

_“For…?”_

_“Coming here. Meeting them. Answering all my mom’s questions without hexing her.”_

_“Now I know where you get your inquisitive nature.”_

_Hermione chuckled._

_They both turned at the sound of the patio door opening. “I see you found my telescope,” Will Granger commented, approaching them._

_“I wish you could see the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts, Dad! You’d love it!”_

_Will put his arm around his daughter and kissed the top of her head. “Based on how you describe it, there isn’t any part of Hogwarts I wouldn’t love.”_

 

 

Severus warmed at the memory. Although the Grangers enjoyed showering their only child with affection, it hadn’t unnerved him in the way other demonstrative parents had.

He knew how they felt. He loved her, too.

As he approached the top of the stairs, Severus glanced around.

Well, Hermione wasn’t here, either.

Panic slammed him; he’d been to every place on their agreed-upon list, and he hadn’t found her. Did it mean she never made it at all? That her modifications to the Time-Turner hadn’t worked? That she had inadvertently—or purposely—travelled to a different time than this?

_What if I don’t find her? What if she’s dead, as the Ministry suggests?_

With that last bitter question, he spun his own pendant three times and the walls of the Weasley vault imprisoned him in his own time once again.

 

*****

**Late March 2006, Lucius Malfoy’s Study**

 

_We’ll find her._

That’s what Lucius had said to him. Not only that, he’d said it _confidently._

Encouraged by the three simple words, Severus followed Lucius to the Malfoy dining room.

“Cissy. You look exquisite this evening,” Severus said, inclining his head as he approached Lucius’s wife. “How is Scorpius? What is he, eight weeks old now?”

“Nine,” she answered with a dazzling smile. Lucius chuckled. Cissy gave her husband a withering look and then turned back to her guest. “It’s lovely to see you, Severus.”

The house elves wandered in and out, offering drinks and hors d'oeuvres. As Cissy breathlessly described a typical day with Scorpius in detail, Severus let his mind wander.

_Where else could she be? Hogsmeade? In a room at the Leaky? Somewhere in Muggle London?_

“Family and home are critically important, don’t you agree, Severus? It ties us together, makes us feel connected to the past,” Cissy said offhandedly.

Severus felt his face drain of colour; he stood up abruptly from the dining table, nearly upending his glass of wine. “Cissy, Lucius, I beg your forgiveness, I must take my leave.”

“Certainly, Severus. I do hope everything is okay,” Cissy said, her eyes full of concern.

“It is. Thank you for your hospitality, Cissy.”

Lucius rose and walked with him to the main foyer. “You want to try again.” It was a statement, not a question. “And you have an idea on where she might be.”

“Actually, I do,” he said. “And I could use your help.”

 

*****

 

After Lucius dismissed the Gringotts goblin, Severus followed him into the Malfoy vault. This one was a bit more… _expansive_ than the last one he had entered. Severus tried not to stare.

“Ready?” Lucius asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes. Thank you. I will return momentarily.”

As the magic twisted him backward in time, Severus found himself first at Hogwarts, then in the threadbare sitting room of Spinner’s End.

While it would have been a pleasant surprise, he hadn’t expected to find Hermione in his childhood home—it was far too dangerous for her to stay here with the potential for his past self to happen upon her.

He glanced around at the browns that had all faded to the same hue, pursing his lips in displeasure. One day soon, he truly needed to update the furnishings. The scent of ancient, leather-bound books was the sitting room’s only redeeming quality.

Books…well, that was something both he and Hermione appreciated immensely. Perhaps…?

Severus stepped closer to one of the bookshelves, scrutinizing every detail. Ten minutes later, he discovered one tiny book— _Famous Polyjuice Blunders_ —out of alphabetical order.

He chuckled.

“ _Magicae Revelio_ ,” he intoned. As the signature of Hermione’s magic curled comfortingly around his own, the air in front of him blazed with the letters, _Find what you gifted to me, and is now forever mine._

Her ring. Of course.

Severus bounded into the master bedroom and yanked the bottommost drawer of his dresser open. Indeed, someone had rifled through his belongings—and this time, he was grateful for it. He opened the velvet box.

 _“Magicae Revelio_ ,” he said again, and words sprang to life before him. This time, they said, _Wait for me in the place where you saw another man kiss me._

Another man? Impossible. He’d never seen her kissed by another...not at the Yule Ball, escorted by that ignoramus Krum…not at Slughorn’s party…not at any of the revels after the war…

While there was no doubt the letters bore her magical signature, it couldn’t be right. He’d never seen another man kiss her. Ever.

What in Merlin’s name could she mean?

And—because his past self could arrive at any minute—he couldn’t stay until he figured it out.

Frustrated, Severus allowed the time-magic to fold around him once more, and he materialized back in the Malfoy vault.

He spent the evening contemplating her message. Even if he were to allow for her short-lived infatuation with Ronald Weasley, he had never witnessed the two kiss. He was certain of it. It didn’t make any sense. There had been no man in her life before him.

Wait—

Except one.

 

*****

“I would like to enter my vault.”

“Identification,” the goblin intoned from behind the counter, without bothering to look up.

Severus cocked an eyebrow and surrendered his wand; the goblin examined it briefly, then swung the wrought iron gate open to beckon Severus through. After a brief ride in the wooden lorry with a rather unusually garrulous goblin, Severus dismissed the creature and shut himself inside his vault.

He rotated the pendant three times and materialized at Hogwarts; he immediately Apparated to the front steps of a modest, light grey home in the outskirts of London. The house was dark and clearly empty, its curtains drawn and windows shuttered against any casual passersby. A simple _Alohomora_ gained him entry.

After ensuring Hermione was not anywhere inside, Severus wandered onto the back patio. The telescope stood stoic and abandoned, obscured under a cover that had obviously been Hermione’s handiwork. Severus wondered if Will had forgotten his love for astronomy—as he had his love for his child—while in Australia.

He went back to the sitting room, cast a _Tempus_ , and sat down to wait.

Seventeen hours and some minutes later, Hermione blurred into existence in front of him, and collapsed onto the carpet. He flung himself to her side, and cradled her head, lifting it up off the floor.

“I haven’t been able to precisely control the Time-Turner after I modified it,” she whispered sheepishly.

“I can see that.” It took all of his control not to rail at her, or weep with relief.

“I’m okay,” she said, sitting up with his help.

“I can see that, too,” he said, sarcasm heavily colouring his tone.

She rolled her eyes. “You got my message.”

“Obviously.”

“How long have you been waiting for me?”

“Here? Less than a day.”

“Thank you.” She struggled to stand. “Can we sit?” she asked, indicating the sofa.

He put his arm around Hermione’s waist—which was dreadfully tiny—and led her across the room.

“What did you learn?” Severus asked when they had both settled into the cushions.

“The curse is a modified combination of a _Diffindo_ and a _Defodio_ , mixed with aspects of an _Avada_.” She sighed. “St Mungo’s used a _Confulcio_ on me, which works like a _Reparo_ and means that—“

“It seals the dark magic on the inside.”

“Yes.”

“You overheard him explain it, then.”

Hermione gave him a wry smile. “Let me ask you something. Knowing Dolohov, do you really think he was the one that developed it?”

Severus huffed a laugh. “No.”

“You’re right—he didn’t. I still don’t know who did. But I tracked down an object that reveals magical source, and used it to decipher the curse. I had to travel to Egypt to…borrow it. From a museum.” From her pocket, she produced a silver orb with one flattened side, similar in size to a snitch, and placed it in his hand.

He chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

Hermione coloured and twisted her ring. “I left a thank you note at the museum…I thought I would gift it to St Mungo’s with instructions detailing how it works...eventually…after I study it more thoroughly, of course.”

He smiled at her. “Good enough.”

She coughed and winced.

Taking her hand, he said, “I assume you didn’t heal yourself already, correct?”

“No, I didn’t. I believe we should incorporate bond-magic in the counter-curse, and in order to do that, I need you.”

 

*****

 

It had taken several hours of magic that had depleted them both, but Hermione was healed.

Hermione folded herself onto the sofa next to Severus and sighed. “So where did you find the Time-Turner?”

“Lucius purchased it from a collector in Wales. The Ministry would not approve the use of the one housed in the Department of Mysteries.”

She smiled. “He’s a good friend.”

He hummed his agreement, and Hermione chuckled. “A well-connected one,” he clarified offhandedly.

“It defies Croaker’s Law,” she pointed out, and smiled tentatively.

“Yes.” Severus raised an eyebrow. “Odd, don’t you think, that Lucius would happen to find this particular one in his search?”

She mumbled something he couldn’t quite hear.

“I presume you left a message for yourself on the ring,” he said.

“I did. The message activates when put it on your finger.” Hermione smiled more widely. “I figured you wouldn’t be trying it on before giving it to me.”

“A worthy assumption.”

“I wanted to assure myself that I was making the right decision to return to the past.”

He harrumphed, and they sat in comfortable silence for a while.

“I left from my vault in Gringotts. The goblin will see you emerge, and after the robbery of the Lestrange vault and the loss of the Ironbelly…” Severus smiled crookedly at her. “They have a protection spell that prevents anyone from using an Obliviate within the bank.”

“I know.” Hermione looked off into the distance as if she were contemplating something. Pulling the golden chain out from under her blouse, she muttered, “I can’t seem to fix it,” and her lips in frustration. “May I borrow yours for a moment? I…need to…eh…stop at the Ministry before we go back.”

When Hermione returned, just seconds after leaving, she said, “Do you mind if we go now? I don’t want to stay in 1994 any longer.”

Severus stood, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. As she put the chain over his head, she whispered, “Three turns.”

He smiled at her. “Three turns.”

 

*****

**Epilogue: Three Days Later, Initial Wizengamot Hearing at The Ministry of Magic**

 

“The goblin Arnuk is willing to testify that you emerged from your vault with Miss Granger, apparently after using a Time-Turner to retrieve her from the past.” The Auror looked gleeful at the prospect.

Hermione pointedly did not look at Severus. “Auror McMichaels, I believe if you double check the paperwork, you will find that Headmaster Snape has been approved to use any and all Time-Turners, and has been, for years.”

McMichaels shuffled some paperwork around, raised an eyebrow, and glanced up suspiciously. “It appears you are correct, Miss Granger.”

“Madam Snape,” she corrected. “As of this afternoon.”

“My apologies, Madam Snape.”

“Then I’m certain you will not want to waste the Ministry’s precious time by going forward with this investigation,” she continued.

“Very well.” The Ministry official sighed, and closed the manila folder in front of him. “Madam Snape. Headmaster Snape. You are free to go.”

“Thank you, Auror McMichaels,” Hermione said.

“One more thing. Headmaster Snape, I was asked by the Auror Office to inform you that your Probation Trace is set to expire at the close of business today. Apparently, there was some confusion with the paperwork, which has been rectified.”

Severus inclined his head in appreciation, making sure he did not catch his wife’s eye. “I appreciate you letting me know.”

And half-smiling, half-smirking, he took his wife’s hand and led her into the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Please show your appreciation for the author here, or on [LIVEJOURNAL!](http://hp-crossgenfest.livejournal.com/46682.html) ♥


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